In 2000, I attended a design conference in Boston that was being presented by the renowned Edward Tufte.
For those of you that are not familiar with Mr. Tufte, not only is he a genius, but also possesses an ego that of which Sting, and his blasphemous Symphonicity, could only hope to acquire. Because I really am fascinated by people that assume to be larger than life… Spinning the earth’s axis on the tips of their pinky fingers while the rest of us just stare with our mouths hanging open and the wonder of it all. And while I have loved Sting for most of my life, The Police made Syncronicity and NOTHING will ever compare. But there I was, sitting among others, listening to Edward’s theories on visual explanations and quantitative information… soaking it all in while furiously taking notes that were sure to get me to where I needed to get to… That place where the beautiful evidence stands up and just slaps you across the face saying “WAKE UP. NOTHING IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN RIGHT NOW.” When suddenly it hit me. If I had been nice to that new kid in third grade, he wouldn’t have hated me with every fiber of his body while the tables of time rotated to where he was on the other side, making fun of every breath I would take…
Instead, I made fun of him.
In the lunchroom, in front of the entire 3rd grade.
I made fun of him because he was wearing a pink Izod shirt.
Me.
Him.
The entire 3rd grade.
On his first day, at a new school.
Today I sit here… writing this post… thinking about the wonderment of where I am and how I never thought I’d be here. I never thought about where I was really going to be… and, just like I never questioned why that kid hated me so much, I never assumed there to be a reason. But there was. Which is why, when a dear old friend mentioned casually in conversation that someone I sort of once knew several years ago, but not really… “kinda really disliked” me, and “still doesn’t” and knows this because she “reads” my “blog”.. kinda sends my head off into another dimension where it is a cool idea to throw more glass into the ocean because the supply of sea glass is dwindling. Because beyond not liking me… there really isn’t an explanation. That’s it. Plain and simple. She just doesn’t like me… and APPARENTLY never has. Even though she never knew me. And while I am trying to appreciate this as acceptable — she is also reading these very words.. quite possibly and most likely RIGHT NOW. Which is only taking me back to my comfort zoned theory that she obviously must really love me. Because… at the very least, let me give you a reason…
But I like you. And, the world spins on my nipple.So, there.Pbbbtttthhh.
Visited Mr Tufte site, so l just have to say thanks!Lovely inspiration.:)
Oh My God, Walking In Your Footsteps Miss Gradenko!You gave me some Synchronicity love and now I have to smile and think of Stewie for a moment before I continue.I think maybe he DID love you. Pink Izod or not.
well i’m reading this post RIGHT NOW and i swear i love you, sting, sea glass, denial and other dimensions. so it wasn’t me.
Somehow, someway, in some alternate universe…Or maybe in *our* collective world, you and I share some really strange connection. I actually can’t even explain why I feel this, but this post… somehow really grabs me in the boo boo.
This hurts my head. A – need more Police. B – so I’m supposed to not like you so you know I love you? C – You DON’T think tartar control sounds like pantyhose for teeth?
Hmmm, I always assumed the kids who didn’t like me, of which there were several, knew about my secret plans for them, thus their disdain for me. I had big plans for them, indeed.Also, he wore a PINK IZOD on his first day at a new school?? I’m sorry, but isn’t this the sort of thing one does when begging to be made fun of, or is that another of my misconceptions?You are, in one single post, debunking many of my youthful theories. I believe I need wine and time alone with my thoughts.
I’m trying to get a visual on this…
Anytime! His books are really really amazing — I highly recommend.
sometimes I can’t get through the day without a pinch of The Police… And no — he really did not love me, I could go further into detail but that would be WAY too much information.
I know it wasn’t you! I know who it is… and I’m sure I’ve now given her a reason for not liking me even more with this post! Isn’t seaglass the best… I think I’m obsessed.
I know. And it has nothing to do with 6 degrees — we met totally independent of any connection… Maybe our collective world is really a parallel universe… Sorry about grabbing you in the boo boo.
Okay Elly. NOW YOU’VE DONE IT.A. okay, more Police.B. You can like or not like, but I’m going to think you love me… if only to make myself feel better about C.C. Did you just go against the blogging order and cross stream your comment from another post? WHAT? Totally disrupting the world ORDER OF THINGS? What am I supposed to DO NOW? Disorder = Dysfunction and now this comment reads like its own post.. I need to go shake this off and rearrange my spice cabinet… AGAIN.
Sorry for the debunking, but glad that things aren’t uninteresting! I don’t know — I’m going with the theory that his mother dressed him or maybe there was some Miami Vice action in play, but I didn’t hesitate to call him out on it… poor kid.